


For a Better Life

by Do_the_Cool_Whip



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Piccolo and Gohan have a romantic non-sexual relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Do_the_Cool_Whip/pseuds/Do_the_Cool_Whip
Summary: Son Gohan was kidnapped by his uncle when he was four years old. After enduring twelve years of torture and war, a change in circumstances gives him the determination to escape the Planet Trade Organization. He ends up on Planet Earth, in the company of people he never thought he would see again. There’s only one problem: After Raditz, Nappa, Vegeta, and Turles, Goku and his friends are neither welcoming nor trusting of saiyans; and because of his need for secrecy and his desire to never speak of the horrors of his life, Gohan refuses to admit his identity.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Son Gohan, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Piccolo/Son Gohan, Son Gohan & Son Goten
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	For a Better Life

Gohan has been through this process enough times that he goes through most of it without thinking. He allows them to collect his blood without resistance. He willingly provides a sample of his stool, urine, and semen. He stands on the scale, so his weight can be determined; he stands against the wall, so his height can be measured; he lays on the examination table, so his internal organs can be scanned.

He moves on autopilot, functioning without processing anything that happens around him. The attendant’s hands are cold on his body, his skin is crawling, and every touch of smooth scaly skin makes his stomach twist into knots. The physician presses the transducer probe firmly into his abdomen, throwing his entire weight into the motion, but Gohan barely feels the pressure and his breathing remains unimpeded.

His mandibles click together, a soft tutting noise punctuated by indifferent clicks. “78965, it appears you are in perfect health.”

Gohan frowns, unable to stop the glare he throws at the attendant. “That is not my name.” It’s this more than anything that forces Gohan back into the moment. The Planet Trade Organization has taken a lot of things from him: His parents, his innocence, his hope. It will not take his identity. “My name is Son Gohan.”

“Irrelevant.” The physician turns to walk away, writing his findings onto a clipboard that Gohan knows will be transcribed and added to the database by the end of the day. “You are free to go. Send 78966 in.”

He would yell, but there isn’t much of a point. This isn’t a fight Gohan wants to waste his energy on. He’s sitting up, feet just placed on the ground, when Malevich walks into the room.

Malevick is a large alien, one of the biggest Gohan has ever encountered. His limbs are composed of masses of writhing tentacles, each one capable of producing acid strong enough to melt through skin and bone. He has a skull for a head, curved boned horns protruding like devil horns. There is a tentacle wiggling in each eye socket and were he to open his mouth, another one would become visible in place of a tongue.

Gohan can’t stop the way his eyes drop to the floor when the alien walks into the room, the way he begins trembling when four tentacles launch across the room to tangle in his hair. “Is everything alright in here? How is little 78965?”

“Gohan,” he whispers, the words slipping out of his mouth before he even realizes he’s speaking. He winces, biting down on his lip when a tentacle in his hair slides down to wrap it his neck, squeezing tight enough to choke him.

“Now, now, 78965, the grown ups are talking. Little whores should keep their mouths shut or we’ll find a better use for them, understood?” The tentacle tightens around his neck, before loosening enough for Gohan to take a breath.

“Underst—” A tentacle from his hair slithers down his face and shoves its way into his mouth. It thrusts erratically in his mouth and Gohan resists the urge to bite down on it.

That’s not a mistake he’ll ever make again.

The physician scoffs at him, turning to face Malevich and Gohan can feel his own face burn. This is humiliating, degrading, demeaning but there’s nothing Gohan can do to make it stop.

“78965 is in perfect health,” the physician states.

“Good. I don’t know what we’d do without our only saiyan in working order. We can’t exactly replace him.” One of Malevich’s tentacles begins tenderly stroking the side of his face, tracing the corner of his eye, as if to wipe away tears. Gohan isn’t four. He doesn’t cry when this happens anymore. He doesn’t cry when anything happens to him.

“Do you want me to use 78965 to create another one?”

“Wasn’t the cloning technology deemed insufficient for our purposes?” Malevich is smirking at him, the tentacle around his neck tightening to the point of cutting off breathing again. Gohan endures it all with the knowledge that Malevich won’t kill him. Gohan has too much value to Malevich to ever be killed.

He tries not to be disappointed by that knowledge, as the tentacle stroking his face wraps around his head and covers his eyes and nose.

“It was. Clones deteriorate once they reach the age at which the genetic information they were based on was obtained.”

Gohan relaxes slightly at those words. He knows the information, of course, but there’s something very relieving at hearing it repeated to Malevich. He wouldn’t want to sentence another version of himself to live through this hell.

“Then how would you obtain another one from 78965?”

“Saiyans are hermaphroditic. We could breed another one.” Gohan tenses, feeling a ball of dread settle into his stomach while the tentacle around his neck loosens and allows him a single breath. He hears tapping, claws clicking on computer keys.

“I’ve never heard of this before.” Malevich says.

“The role in reproduction was based on strength. When they desired to reproduce, saiyans would battle. The loser would carry the offspring of the winner. Female saiyans had an ovipositor that would emerge on victory, while males had a birthing canal that remained closed until they lost a battle. 78965 is some sort of hybrid and lacks a birthing canal; however, his uterus and eggs are functional. If you desire more saiyans, we can artificially inseminate him and perform a caesarian section to remove the offspring once it has reached a viable age.” Gohan feels nauseous just thinking about it.

A child.

They’re talking about putting a kid in him and then—he gags. Gohan gags around the tentacle in his mouth, stomach heaving at the thought of bringing a child into this hell. Malevich chuckles, but doesn’t stop thrusting his tentacle into Gohan’s mouth.

“Vegeta has a viable sample of semen from his last physical on Planets 325, 778, 902, 002, and 6443. Nappa has samples on Planets 1929, 397, 5385, 6492, 5634, 325, 778, 902, and 002. Radditz has samples on Planets 325, 778, 902, and 002.”

“Vegeta was the prince of the saiyans, was he not?” Malevich murmurs. The tentacle blindfolding him, unwraps from around his head, and the one in his hair manages to wrap around enough of his hair to jerk his head back, forcing Gohan to look at the two standing in front of the computer. “How would you like to be pregnant with royalty, 78965?”

Gohan tries to shake his head, but neither the tentacle in his hair nor the one in his mouth let him budge.

“How many can you create?”

“How many would you like?”

Malevich chuckles, “Why don’t we begin with two? One to join the barracks and another to join the corps.” Gohan thrashes, heart pounding in his chest, fear clawing its way out of his heart. Malevich’s ki grows. Gohan can feel it growing proportionally to Gohan’s own fear, his own ki slowly being siphoned out.

Joining the barracks was just a nice way to say be one of the Planet Trade Organization’s whores. Gohan was four when he was first forced to join the barracks. He alternates between being a part of the barracks and being a part of the corps. Gohan is aware that Abo and Kado want him to be a part of the corps and keep sending him back to the barracks as punishment for his defiance.

The last time Gohan had been sent to purge a planet, he’d managed to send most of the children and a good handful of adults off into space before his superiors had realized what he was doing. If we were any other species, he would be executed for treason, but he’s not. Son Gohan is a saiyan, the last of his kind and the strongest fighter in the Planet Trade Organization. He may not be loyal to them, another reason he should have been executed a long time ago, but he is the only one capable of dealing with the tougher opponents that they sometimes find lurking on planets slated for purging.

It hurts. It hurts knowing that he’s strong enough to win a fight to get out of this hellhole, but he’s never going to get a chance. Because of Malevich. Gohan isn’t the same four-year-old who was forced into the barracks. Gohan killed that little boy when he was six-years-old and fighting off Shenron to avoid being wished back to Earth. A year spent as a whore in the barracks and his first kills on Planet Namek had left him too ashamed to return home to face his family.

Sometimes, Gohan wonders if he should have taken the chance. Let Shenron whisk him home away from this hell, but then he remembers that six-year-old boy. That boy hadn’t been able to survive the Planet Trade Organization and Gohan doesn’t think he would have been able to survive returning home. He’d been broken and there was no fixing him and Gohan knows that if that boy had made it home, his parents would have been devastated

And their devastation would have been the end of that little boy.

It’s better this way. He told Shenron to send a message. To tell his family that he couldn’t be summoned to Earth because he was dead. He was dead and didn’t want to be wished back to life. It was a little lie, but it was necessary. This way his parents never have to live with the knowledge of what happened to him. This way Gohan is the only one who suffers.

Except now Malevich wants to force Gohan to reproduce.

They want Gohan to have children. They want one of Gohan’s children to be a full-time whore and the other a full-time monster. Gohan is strong enough to fight his way out of the Planet Trade Organization, but the remnants of a six-year-old boy haunt him, instilling him with a paralyzing fear of Malevich that Gohan’s never been able to suppress. There’s nothing he can do with the ghost of that little boy plaguing him.

“Planet 902 is the closest location,” the physician states. “Shall I order them to deliver the samples or will you be transporting 78965 to the base?”

“Have it brought here. I would hate to prevent the troops from indulging in 78965.”

Gohan is surprised to feel tears prickling at the back of his eyes. It’s been a long time since he last cried. He banishes the residue of his younger self from his mind. This is his fate. There is nothing Gohan can do to prevent it.

* * *

It’s eight weeks after the insemination when it finally happens. Gohan is lying on his back in the examination room. The same physician from his physical is pressing the transducer into his abdomen once more. This time it’s to confirm his pregnancy and to get an estimation on how long it will be. They don’t know what Gohan’s saiyan blood is mixed with and Gohan has no intention of telling them. The Planet Trade Organization has no information on Earth and Gohan would like to keep it that way.

He can still remember hacking into the database years ago and stumbling across the file on Earth. It had been a low-priority planet. Its natural resources were appealing, but its distance from the rest of the galaxy made it a hassle. His dad had been sent to purge it. That’s an idea Gohan still can’t wrap his head around. Dad had been sent to Earth to destroy it, but from the stories he remembers his parents telling him at bedtime, he ended up becoming the Earth’s strongest protector.

Gohan had doctored the file on Earth. Fixing it so that Earth was listed as lacking in resources and the entire galaxy was considered a waste of resources to make sure no one ever had a reason to visit his home planet. It wasn’t a lot of protection, but it was all Gohan could offer.

Gohan doesn’t know how long human pregnancies last nor does he know how long his mother was pregnant with him. All he knows is that saiyan pregnancies typically last about twenty weeks and Gohan is eight weeks pregnant.

Malevich has a tentacle in Gohan’s hair again another one wrapped around his neck. It’s a familiar weight, almost comforting in its expected promise for violence. The physician hums softly, pressing the transducer against a single spot. “The pregnancies have taken. Here is the first one.” He tilts the monitor with one hand to face them. There’s a grey blob on the screen, it doesn’t resemble anything vaguely saiyan like. The physician traces an area with a single claw as if it has some sort of importance. “This is the head. It appears the eyelids and possibly the eyes have developed.”

Gohan stares at the picture on the screen with horror, ignoring the slight gassy feeling in his stomach that starts up. The physician indicates each body part that’s formed, commenting on its current development and speculating on the indications it has for his later pregnancy. Slowly, through his words, Gohan is able to make out a baby.

It’s devastating. Gohan can’t bring a child into the Planet Trade Organization.

He would rather die.

The physician taps a few keys on the keyboard and a rapid thundering sound fills the room. It sounds like a stampede of large animals or the fluttering of the wings of a large group of birds taking off for flight. “The heartbeat is within the expected range.” The physician says when the sound finally starts. “Its power level is sitting at two hundred, which is significantly lower than expected.”

Power level? It has a power level. Gohan fights back the sudden terror he feels, trying to ignore the way Malevich’s ki begins to grow in response, and tries to sense the ki the transducer is picking up.

Four. There are four different weak power levels that he can feel in his abdomen. Four. One of them is fluctuating a little and Gohan has no idea if that’s normal or not.

He might be panicking a little.

The transducer is moved around his abdomen until it settles in another spot. The grey image on the screen is moving. Consistently squirming around and Gohan doesn’t want to cry at the sight of it, but fighting back tears is an arduous task. He hears its heartbeat and doesn’t know what to do with his emotions.

“What’s this one’s power level?” Malevich asks, speaking up for the first time. The tentacles in his hair tighten to a painful degree. It’s something familiar. Something grounding. Gohan focuses on the pain because he can’t handle focusing on anything else.

“2374, which is significantly higher than the expected range. The average power level of saiyans sat between 1000 and 2500, which puts this one above its species before it’s been born. Its power level made it easy to locate because 78965 keeps his power level suppressed so low.”

Gohan releases his hold on some of his ki. He bumps it up from the five hundred he’s learned to keep it at to somewhere he estimates at around 5000. The transducer begins to beep and the physician turns from Malevich to glare at Gohan.

“Suppress your ki,” he snaps in cold clipped tones.

Gohan refuses to obey until the tentacle around his neck tightens enough to choke him. “Behave, 78965, or I will punish you.”

Gohan tries to resist, his fear increases to the point where Malevich’s ki threatens to consume him and Gohan can’t find the courage to remind Malevich of his name, let alone rebel against his orders. He finds himself lowering his ki back to its normal levels as fast as possible, hating himself during every second.

“We’ll assign the first one to the barracks and this one to the corps.”

A single tear leaks from his left eye as the tentacle around his neck loosens enough for him to breathe again. It goes unnoticed by the other two who continue the prenatal checkup without sparing any more attention to Gohan. Gohan is forced to listen to both of their heartbeats, their power levels of 476 and 503, and then Malevich assigns one to the barracks and the other to the corps.

As the physician stands, moving to collect something, Malevich turns to look at him, tentacles crawling out of his eye sockets and gently waving in Gohan’s direction. “I wasn’t expecting to be so displeased with you bearing another’s offspring.” The tentacle in his hair yanks on a clump of hair. “I suppose the next time we’ll have to check how compatible our species are.”

There’s no way for Gohan to begin to comprehend the way those words make him feel. He’s only barely aware of the way Malevich chuckles and his ki swells to the point where Gohan can almost taste it in the air.

Next time around. As in this won’t be the only time. As in Gohan might spend the rest of his life as breeding stock, bringing children into a life of suffering and misery. He can’t let this happen. He can’t let his life become his children.

It’s here that it finally happens. A second tear falls, followed by another, and then another. Soon Gohan is sobbing the way he used to when he was four and desperate for his daddy to save him from his nightmare.

Malevich’s tentacles wrap around him, pulling him closer to the alien and Gohan is too distraught to do anything but allow it. The physician returns, handing Gohan a sheet of paper. It takes a second for him to realize what he’s looking at.

Photos. There are four photos on the page. A snapshot of each fetus inside of him.

The little boy that Gohan murdered ten years ago because he was too soft and weak to survive in the Planet Trade Organization rises from the grave and possesses him.

But that’s okay.

That six-year-old boy is the same one who opposed Frieza on Planet Namek, attacking his allies and saving Dende. He’s the boy who got Dende to Guru before the Ginyu Force had been called in and he was recaptured and sent off the planet before the Ginyu Force went to deal with someone named Vegeta. The little boy that takes control of him is the one that has Gohan sentenced to the barracks, only allowed to leave when there’s an enemy too strong for the rest of the Organization to deal with.

Gohan knows these photos have been given to him as another way for Malevich to break him, but he also knows that he’s at his strongest when he has something to protect. These photos show everything that Gohan needs to be strong. It’s physical evidence of what he must protect. It’s tangible proof that things can’t stay as they are.

He needs to escape from this hell. He will escape from here. No matter the consequences.

His children will not live this life.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've had sitting on my computer for awhile. I have no idea if I want to work on it more. I'm mostly posting it to see if there's any interest in this fic. I really like the concept of this fic, but I'm not too sure if it's something I should spend time on.


End file.
